


A Personal and Secret Hell

by BardicRaven



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-11
Updated: 2007-11-11
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/pseuds/BardicRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some truths are kept to one's self. Whether that is the best course of action... well, time will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Personal and Secret Hell

**Author's Note:**

> We all need someone. Even and especially when we say we don't.

Of course he won’t tell House why he’s on antidepressants. The truth is not yet something he’s willing to share. Even his psychiatrist only knows part of the story. The rest he keeps safely hidden away with all the other secrets of his life, seldom even permitting himself to see.

The truth, such as he will allow himself to face, is that he’s tired. Friendship with House, while a moral obligation, is never an easy thing. For either of them. Tritter, the ketamine, Stacy, a thousand other more minor betrayals and disappointments… they’ve all taken their toll. And that’s outside of his practice. While rewarding beyond his wildest dreams, oncology also exacts a price that he is becoming increasingly unsure he wants to continue paying. And that frightens him.

Just when he had so little left in reserve, Tritter came along and cleaned out the bank. Maybe outright robbery of what little he had left wasn’t the detective’s intent, but that’s what it felt like. Tritter grabbed it all and held it hostage in exchange for House, forcing him to choose between his career and his friendship.

No one should ever have to make such a choice. Had Cuddy not chosen to act, with a strength and a willingness to dare far more than she should have, the sacrifices would have meant nothing. 

Since that day in court, when Cuddy committed perjury to save them all from themselves, there’s been forgiveness of a sort from House, but things haven’t truly been the same since Tritter came into their lives. Even though he is gone now, still his ghost remains, poisoning all it touches.

There’s damage and pain and anger that shames him because he can’t let it go. Such stubborn persistence in suffering is, after all, House’s territory. 

So now House isn’t the only one who can’t see beyond his own anger and pain, but that remains a secret from House… and from himself, for that matter. Secrets are such heavy things, though, and he’s tired of carrying this one. He never thought he’d ever feel this tired. Medical school, residency, those were nothing compared to this. Those were tiredness of the body. This is tiredness of the soul.

Was it truly only two years ago that they laughed together on a Christmas Eve, sharing joy and music and laughter and Chinese food? Before Stacy’s return, before the ketamine, before…. Before, before, before. And now there’s only after - an after filled with loneliness and misunderstandings, and a weariness too deep to allow for explanation.

That weariness is starting to creep into his practice, and that scares him more than anything. Like his friend, he has only two things that stay, two things that matter more than anything else. One of them is his practice, and now it feels like he’s losing that just as surely as he’s losing his friendship with House. 

And he’s unsure of what to do to save either.

What House doesn’t know, besides any of this, is that there was a night, during the depths of the Tritter nightmare, when he seriously thought about ending it all. He’d left his patients, his friendship, why not this last thing too?

He’d lost everything. The only person his life meant anything to was a forty-something cop with revenge on his mind.

He doesn’t even remember why he didn’t go through with it. Maybe the weariness that wrapped itself around him like a suffocating cocoon made it too difficult to bother with. Perhaps he merely couldn’t care enough about what happened to muster the necessary resolve.

He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t really care. That was then, this is now, except that the ‘then’ is creeping inexorably into the ‘now’ and he is desperately afraid that this time he won’t be able to resist the siren’s song.

What finally pushed him into taking action, however, was House’s cancer scare. Never mind that it had been false – it was enough to kick-start him into doing something.

Before he knew of the ruse, in those days when he still thought his friend was dying, he’d looked into a gaping chasm of despair and he knew he’d never survive alone. That drove him to finally pick up the phone and make an appointment with a psychiatrist.

And then he found out House wasn’t going to die. His impending death wasn’t so impending after all. 

Unlike the others, he knew it wasn’t just a stunt to get high. It was a sign of House’s own desperation, and anyone willing to fake death for relief might not bother with the ruse next time.

So he went through with the appointments. He couldn’t depend on House any more (if, in fact, he’d ever been able to depend on House for anything) and he couldn’t afford to risk any more than he already had. If he was going to lose one half of his life, he’d be damned if he was going to lose the other half as well.

House claims that he lives his life for others - for the cancer kids and the unsuitable wives and the nurses who need a shoulder to cry on - rather than for himself. Maybe House is right and he does need neediness.

Well, then, if that’s what it takes to get him through his day, then that’s what it will be. But to do that, he needs backup. And if he can’t get it from the people around him, well, then, he’ll just have to get it from pills.

After all, it seems to be all the rage.

**Author's Note:**

> ##### Written in 2007, posted here for completeness and because it's time. :> \- 02-28-13
> 
> ##### Date updated to reflect original LiveJournal publication date, because AO3 lets me now. (And/or I've figured out how, depending.)


End file.
